


Miguel the Wolf Dog

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday Story Extravaganza, College/University, Derek as a Real Wolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2497295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' roommate Derek was pretty strange, and Stiles didn't know much about him. His dog, Miguel, was pretty cute though, and it was adorable how Miguel and Scott did the same rubbing thing because apparently Stiles "smells like another werewolf, and the pack doesn't like that". Well, it wasn't actually that cute when Scott did it. And if only he could find this other werewolf on campus...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miguel the Wolf Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy.

Stiles didn't really know what to think of his roommate. He knew basic facts, like his name was Derek, he was two years older than Stiles, and he didn't talk much. His most expressive feature was his eyebrows, he liked ice cream but hated chocolate, and he had family that he visited sometimes, but Stiles had never met them. He was majoring in Psychology with a minor in Mythology, which was how they'd been paired up even though Stiles was a Junior and he was a Senior. Both of them had minors in Mythology, and since the school system had completely botched the roommate system, Stiles took consolation in the fact that they could both at least talk about something in common if Derek ever felt the sudden urge to speak to his roommate.  
  
Another thing Stiles knew about Derek, had in fact noticed the moment Stiles had walked into their shared dorm, was the fact that the guy was freaking attractive as hell. Stiles often though about buying him a razor, one of those really, really good ones, like the ones girls use to shave their legs, because the guy always seemed to have stubble. Perpetual stubble; was that even a thing?  
  
See, as soon as Stiles realized that Derek was the don't-have-contact-besides-necessary kind of roommate, where Stiles was the bond-bond-BOND kind of roommate, he'd come up with a coping mechanism. A mental list of all the things he would buy for Derek as a joke, if they actually knew each other. Starting with a really good razor and ending with a cat, because Stiles had noticed that Derek was a dog person, and sometimes he looked like he was inclined to eat any cat that annoyed him. Sometimes cats looked like they were inclined to eat him too, so it was okay.  
  
Since Derek was obviously not super inclined to talk to Stiles, Stiles took it upon himself to find out everything he could about Derek in a complete not-stalker-y fashion. Like his birthday, so Stiles could give him one of his joke-y gifts. Or anything else, because Stiles was genuinely curious about everything and he figured it would do to know at least one piece of blackmail over every hot person he knew just in case they turned out to be like Lydia and weren't above blackmailing him because they wanted him to apologize to their super-douche of a boyfriend. (No Stiles is absolutely not hinting at anybody *cough* Jackson *cough*)  
  
Thankfully Derek didn't seem the blackmailing type, because the closest Stiles had was when he nearly broke the doorframe because he couldn't figure out how to attach the bar he used for pull-ups correctly. And Stiles knew most people would be more focused on the fact that Derek did pull ups daily, along with this whole super-work out routine consisting of push ups, pull ups, sit ups, and a whole lot more other ups, sweat, and general manliness. Stiles absolutely did not stare.

 

Stiles was already in the habit of cooking heart-friendly but tasty meals because he had to keep his Dad's heart healthy and fast food just wasn't going to cut it. Plus, his Dad sure wasn't cooking meals like this for himself, and Stiles had to make them at least taste good otherwise his Dad wouldn't eat them after the first few tries, and Stiles had committed himself to the diet too, just so his Dad would comply.

 

All of Stiles' recipes were for two, because before it had just been him and his Dad. After a while of Stiles unintentionally torturing Derek with the smells of home cooked meals, Derek noticed that there were always leftovers in the fridge exactly the right amount for another person's dinner. One night, while Stiles was serving himself some chicken hash, Derek plopped down in the chair across for him and reached for the pan, pausing halfway and looking at Stiles, eyes clearly asking for permission.

 

Stiles was understandably stunned, but nodded earnestly and said, "Yeah, sure, go ahead dude. Better than the giant amounts of leftovers piling up in our fridge."

 

Derek nodded and took the rest of the hash, and that when Stiles figured out that the strained expression Derek pulled whenever he saw Stiles cooking was because he wanted some but didn't want to ask because he didn't want to make Stiles uncomfortable if Stiles didn't want to share. Stiles thanked his lucky stars it wasn't because Derek was super angry because Stiles cooked, like one of  _those_  roommates.

 

Stiles wouldn't go so far as to call him and Derek best friends, not like some roommates, but after a few weeks of carefully watching Derek's expression when he ate, especially his eyebrows, to figure out what he likes best, and Derek quietly advising Stiles to put more spice in his chile, or lighten up on the sauce, and secretly buying Stiles more cooking ingredients as a way to tell Stiles that he liked his cooking, Stiles was definitely ready to call them acquaintances.

 

Scott called often, and so Stiles mentioned Scott sometimes, at dinner. Derek wasn't really the talking type, but Stiles managed to squirm out the occasional detail when Derek got tired of his endless babbling. There were awkward moments, _many awkward moments,_  between him and Derek, mostly because Stiles was a klutz and Derek was bad at expressing feelings without looking like he was constantly angry or depressed. But there were the upsides too, and Stiles figured that Derek wasn't the worst roommate to have.

 

That night Stiles made stir fry. Derek had had lunch with his older sister, Lauren maybe(?), so the unintentional theme was family. Stiles learned that Derek's sister's name was actually Laura, and that they'd gone to a wonderful little cafe and talked about their younger sister finally getting a boyfriend, and if Derek was going to come home for Thanksgiving or not.

 

Derek asked something about Stiles' girlfriend. Stiles had no girlfriend. He nearly spit out his Coke, desperately trying to remember if he'd said something about a girlfriend to Derek. Before Stiles could say that he had no idea what Derek was talking about, or rather, who, Derek grunted, "Lydia."

 

"Uhh, no," Stiles replied. "Lydia is my super-smart goddess of a  _best friend_ , and is in no way interested in dating me. She's fallen head over heels for this total douche, Jackson Whittemore, who literally  _can't_  be more full of himself."

 

"What about Scott," Derek wonders, swallowing a mouthful of stir fry.

 

Stiles tilts his head from side to side. "Lydia's my brain best friend, Scott's my bro best friend. Not to say Scott isn't smart. He's pretty smart, he just has issues, like, all the time. In fact, it was actually him that got me into mythology int he first place." Technically, not a lie. Stiles had done so much research for the werewolf thing, finding out who and what an Alpha was and such. Finding out how to trick and capture him, before it all turned out to be in vain anyway because of that rogue omega that had killed him. And then the previously rogue omega biting people, and then Jackson turning into a Kanima accidentally, and Isaac, Erica, and Boyd and the True Alpha mess coming in with perfect timing after Finstock ran the previously rogue omega over several times with his car. He'd figured a minor in Mythology would not only be a nice stress relief from his double major, but also helpful in the future.

 

"How about you," Stiles asked, scraping the last few mouthfuls of stir fry together on his plate and forcing a good-sized amount onto his fork. "You have any lucky ladies waiting at home for you?"

 

Derek shook his head silently. "No. Just family. I haven't had much luck with dating."

 

Stiles laughed. "Me neither. When I first asked somebody to go out with me, they dumped their lunch down my shirt and laughed at me in front of the entire lunchroom. I've only ever dated like three people, and one of them was convinced I was a Satanist witch and tried to stab me in the middle of the night with a blade dipped in cows' blood. I'm not, by the way. A Satanist witch, that is. Just interested in mythology. My best friend from childhood once tried to convince me to have sex with her just so she could get better at it."

 

Derek's eyebrows twitched up just a tiny bit, and Stiles could swear his lips twisted into a smile for a moment before he got up to put his now empty plate in the sink and go off to bed. Stiles shrugged to himself, put his own plate in the sink, and went off to his own bedroom, ready to finish his Psych paper a few days early.

 

***

 

In the middle of the second quarter, Stiles woke up at three in the morning to his cell phone going off like crazy. Texts from Scott, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and hell, even Jackson lighting up his phone. Stiles snatched it off the dresser and went through the texts quickly, also putting his phone on silent, because Derek could hear  _everything_.

 

Scott's read:

 

**sorry to wake u & so close 2 semester, but theres a mermaid issue**

Lydia's read:

 

**Hey Stiles. I understand that you're busy, but so am I, and I'm heading over to Beacon Hills tomorrow evening. If you're not there, or getting there, when I get there, I will be very angry.**

Allison's read: 

**hey Stiles it looks like we have a siren problem & I was wondering if u could get to beacon hills quick?**

Isaac's read:

 

**There r sirens in town and it would b cool 2 get your help**

Erica's read:

 

**hey batman get your ass over here weve got evil mermaids**

Boyd's read:

 

**We could really use your help.**

And finally, Jackson's read:

 

**hey stilinski get to beacon hills pronto we need to use somebody as fish bait**

Stiles texted everybody back something along the lines of:

 

**Okay, I'll be there soon. I'm not that far away, so I should be able to drive, and I should be there by tomorrow night.**

except, of course, for Jackson, to which he typed back a simple:

 

**fuck you, douchewad**

before turning his phone back on and setting it down on the nightstand. Stiles rolled over and buried his head in the pillow, because he knew he wouldn't be getting enough sleep the next few days, so he better get some sleep while he could.

 

***

 

When Stiles arrived in Beacon Hills, he was immediately hug-attacked by all of his friends. All of his friends except for Jackson, but then again, he wasn't exactly a friend. After a little while, Scott pulled back, frowning at him. Before Stiles could ask what that was about, Scott leaned back in and buried his nose in Stiles' shoulder. Stiles waited for a moment, because he knew he had to put up with at least a minimal amount of werewolf crap, but sooner or later he pushed Scott off.

 

Before Stiles could ask, Scott answered. "You smell like another werewolf."

 

Stiles blinked, gave Scott a confused face, and asked, "What?" That didn't make ay sense. He hadn't been around any other werewolves, and even if he had a few times, it shouldn't smell enough for Scott to notice, even in those weird sniffing hugs he did.

 

And suddenly all the werewolves were sniffing him now, even Jackson. Apparently Scott actually wasn't smell-ucinating, or at least according to the frowns and grumbled all around from the werewolves. some of them were even "discreetly" rubbing up against him, trying to cover the weird scent with their own. Stiles shoved them off.

 

"Okay, okay, I smell like another werewolf," Stiles relented, pushing Isaac away. "It'll go away by the time we fix this siren problem, and I'll scope out campus just in case. But I did  _not_  sign up for your werewolf rubbing-fest. Get off!"

 

Reluctantly, the other werewolves backed off completely. Stiles sighed at the pitiful, unhappy look on Scott's face and reached out an arm to pull his friend closer, giving him a short but full-contact bro hug before pulling away. He clapped his hands together and surveyed the group, nodding seriously. "So...sirens?"

 

***

 

Stiles got back to campus early, and had to drag himself through all this classes while pretending not to be terribly bruised, sore, and tired. He gathered any homework or notes from his various missed classes while fighting back yawns and slowly dragged himself back to his dorm, fully prepared to collapse on his bed and sleep forever.

 

There was a dog in his apartment, and Stiles felt like throwing a temper tantrum. A big, black dog that looked a lot like a wolf, but didn't attack Stiles when he spooked it by opening the door so suddenly, so at the very least it was a very tame black wolf. Stiles dropped his bag in defeat and sighed long-sufferingly.

 

"You're probably Derek's, right?" Stiles asked the dog, because he had  _known_  Derek was totally a dog person, but he probably hadn't wanted to ask Stiles' permission, so he took advantage of Stiles' absence and had gotten a dog. Better to ask permission than forgiveness, right?

 

Stiles hadn't been expecting a response from the dog, so he jumped a little when the black wolf yipped once and bowed it's head a little. Stiles chuckled lightly in amusement as he looked on at the dog. "Hey, no problem. You've already got the puppy dog eyes down, so there's pretty much no chance I'm going ot be able to say no to you, like, ever."

 

Stiles walked across the apartment, kneeling next to the dog and holding out his hand like a peace offering. After a pause, the dog sniffed it, if a little tentatively, but then did let Stiles scratch behind its ears.

 

"Are you a boy or a girl?" Stiles asked the dog, moving his scratching hand around in a semicircle, just enough so when the dog rolled over to follow the scratching, Stiles saw a flash of its --or rather, his-- private area. "Boy then," Stiles concluded, and the dog quickly rolled back over, almost as if embarrassed.

 

Stiles petted the dog for a few more minutes before climbing back to his feet. "So Derek's gone, then?"

 

The dog yipped, as if answering yes, and climbed to his feet, padding gently after Stiles while he grabbed his bag from where he had dropped it near the door and pulled it into his room. The dog stopped at the threshold of Stiles' room, and Stiles figured it was because Derek had trained him to stay out of Stiles' stuff.

 

"I appreciate Derek's effort," Stiles said, sitting cross legged on the floor. "But you can come in, if you want." He beckoned the dog into the room while fishing his professors' notes out of his bag. The dog padded softly over and laid down next to Stiles, head pillowed on his paws. Stiles laughed and absentmindedly reached ot to scratch him behind the ears, settling down in a comfortable position to start reading.

 

***

 

It ended up being Stiles and the dog for dinner that night. Stiles made breakfast for dinner and gave all the extra bacon to the dog, leaving only the waffle quarters and the eggs in the fridge for Derek. A petty revenge, he knew, but probably one of many to come.

 

Stiles went back to his room to finish the project he'd started before breaking for dinner. This time, the dog didn't follow him, but instead went into Derek's room, presumable to sleep. Stiles shrugged to himself and started to work on his assignment again.

 

Before Stiles went to sleep, he made sure to pack all of his stuff up so he wouldn't forget it because he was definitely going to be dead tired, sore, and achy tomorrow, and  _so_  not in the mood. He also grabbed some bandages and disinfectant and re-wrapped some of the cuts the siren had given him.

 

Stiles crawled into bed and curled up around himself, his eyes fluttering closed almost immediately. He barely managed to remind himself that he should also look for another werewolf on campus, just in case, before he fell asleep.

 

***

 

The conversation about the dog happened over dinner two nights later. Stiles had made hot dogs because he hadn't been sure if Derek was going to be there to eat or not, but now the meal seemed oddly appropriate. Besides, he was still bruised and battered, and as much as he enjoyed cooking, he didn't want to go through effort unless effort was going to be appreciated.

 

"So..." Stiles began, but then trailed off awkwardly. "The dog." 

 

Derek's head snapped up and he watched Stiles' expression carefully. "Yes?" he ventured cautiously.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes, fully this time. "You could have at least  _asked_  me before you brought him. Is he yours?"

 

Derek blinked, looking confused. "Yes?"

 

Stiles gave his roommate an exasperated look and a slight eye roll. "I'm not going to ask you to get rid of him or anything. He's really sweet and very well trained. I was just asking if he was yours from home or you randomly decided to adopt him while I was away?"

 

Derek blinked confusedly again, and said, "Home?" Stiles was going to pretend that he didn't hear the question mark at the end of his answer.

 

"What's his name?" Stiles wondered.

 

Derek's eyes widened a little and he glanced around the room before finally answering,just a bit too quickly, "It's, uhm....Miguel."

 

Stiles couldn't stop his mouth before it blurted, "You named your dog Miguel?"

 

"Yes!" Derek huffed, looking away to hide the slight pink flush dusting his cheeks.

 

***

 

Miguel the wolf dog soon became Stiles' homework buddy and cuddle companion. Stiles moved from doing his homework at the table or on his bed to doing it on the floor, where Miguel could lay his head on Stiles' knee or curl up around his back.

 

Derek started being around less, though. Weird, because you would have thought Derek would want to be around more, now that his dog was here and all. Stiles didn't know if Derek was one of  _those_  pet owners, or he just trusted Stiles with Miguel and had met a hot lady friend in Stiles' brief absence. He was betting for the latter, though.

 

Miguel slept in Derek's room whenever Derek was there, but occasionally, when Derek was out, he slept at the foot of Stiles' bed. Once Stiles had found him curled up on Derek's bed, under the blankets, and hadn't had the heart o wake him and make him move. Oh well, Derek's dog, Derek's bed, Derek's problem.

 

Miguel was a pretty smart dog, too. He seemed to understand Stiles' questions and would yip for yes and bark (quietly) for no. Stiles could never find any dog food, and he wasn't using his sparse money for it, so he left dozens of increasingly aggressive post-it notes on Derek's door, reminding him about buying some. He found them crumpled up in the trash, but kept leaving longer and more aggressive notes until Derek left his own sticky note saying Miguel took table scraps. From then on Stiles fed him leftover pieces of meat, eggs, and cheese from whatever he made.

 

Derek still had dinner some nights with Stiles, but Stile suspected this was more because it was free, good food on the days when he wasn't with his new hot lady friend. He still helped Stiles buy ingredients, though, and left them on the kitchen floor where Stiles would find them. The nights Derek wasn't here, Stiles and Miguel chilled out and ate together, sometimes while doing homework, sometimes while watching movies. Stiles took him for walks, because he wasn't sure if Derek did, but Miguel refused to wear a leash, so they had to walk in area with no signs against leash-less dogs. It was good.

 

The next time Stiles saw the pack, they were even more insistent on Stiles smelling like another werewolf, even though he'd taken a thirty minutes shower and scrubbed three layers of skin off. He'd barely paused to say goodbye to Derek, and briefly greet his two sisters, who were helping Derek pack for the holiday, before heading to his Jeep, and Derek had never really displayed wolfy behavior around him. Of course, that could be because Derek rarely spent time around him, but eh.

 

As soon as he squirmed away from his friends and their investigative werewolf noses, he drove to the grocery store, bought an extra large turkey with all the fixings and details, hauled it to his car, and headed home. Thanksgiving was the only time of the year when he didn't watch his Dad's diet like a hawk (a very concerned hawk, but still).

 

Stiles was one of the only ones in their group that could cook food that the pack would eat, so over the years he'd become a lot better at it, and when coupled with the cooking he did for his Dad, and later, his antisocial roommate, he'd gotten really good at it. He also enjoyed it, which was always a plus, seeing as he would probably be stuck doing it  _forever._  


Stiles smiled slightly to himself and he hauled the bags of groceries into the house, already anticipating the smell of cooked turkey and the laughter of this happy friends.

 

***

 

Stiles got back to his dorm in the middle of the night, stumbling his way through the dark to get to his room. He dropped his stuff on the bed, grabbing only the Walgreens Pharmacy bag and making his way towards the bathroom.

 

He nearly tripped over Miguel, who was sleeping near the door to his room. Stiles tried not to smile at that while he flicked on the bathroom light, sparing a cautious glance in the direction of Derek's room. Miguel tilted his head curiously at the boy.

 

Stiles peeled of his shirt, trying not to irritate any of the sensitive spots of bruised or scraped skin on his torso and arms. Miguel let off a high pitched whine when Stiles got the shirt completely off and let it fall from his fingers to pool of the bathroom floor. "Yeah," he sighed in agreement, rifling through the Walgreens bag until his fingers closed around the disinfectant cream. Damn vampires.

 

His skin was practically more bruised skin that unbruised skin. There were long narrow scratches all across his lower torso region from the forest branches and the vampires scratching at him with their freaky claw-nail things that were even sharper than the werewolves'.

 

Stiles tilted his head to the side, gently brushing his fingers over the tiny nicks all over his neck from dozens of attempts to suck his blood before he's wrestled the vampires off of him. Miguel whimpered in the background as Stiles hissed in pain from the sting of the disinfectant.

 

Stiles knelt down, offering his hand out to the dog. When Miguel took a step forward, Stiles moved the hand up to pet his head and scratch behind his ears, while he lifted the other to pet the side of Miguel's neck. Miguel whined a little bit and moved forward, gently nosing at Stiles' own neck.

 

Stiles couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Yeah," he agreed, continuing to pet the dog. "It hurts, but I'm helping people, so it's worth it." Miguel pushed forward a little more, snuffling, and Stiles laughed again. "That's disinfectant you smell," he told the dog. "It's a good idea, believe me. I'm going to smell like it for the next week or so."

 

Stiles climbed to his feet, stretching his arms up above his head while yawning. He lightly ran his hand across Miguel's back as he made his way back to his room, and didn't even bother to hide his smile when Miguel padded after him and curled up at the foot of Stiles' bed.

 

***

 

Stiles couldn't get home for Christmas because there were booked out flights, which were really expensive anyway, and some of the roads necessary tog get out of the city, much less all the way to Beacon Hills, were closed off because of heavy snowfall, along with some other stuff that also affected it. He was bummed, really, but at the same time, it was amazing that for once something completely normal was keeping him out of town.

 

Stiles came home to Derek and an unfamiliar brown haired girl standing in the front part of their dorm. He blinked in confusion and shut the door behind him, just as another unfamiliar brown haired girl came out of Derek's bedroom.

 

Derek glanced over, his face a carefully neutral mask, like always, and greeted him. "Hello Stiles," said he, crossing his arms. "These are my sisters, Laura and Cora. They flew out to see me with round tickets that go back at the end of the break. Their hotel double-booked a room and they drew the short straw, so they're going to be staying here until the end of the break."

 

Stiles blinked again, and then recovered his composure enough to shrug. "Alright, so long as they're not sleeping in my room. I'm used to making a lot of food during the holidays anyway, so I guess this is a good way to avoid leftovers." Stiles moved towards his room, ready to dump his stuff on the floor and bury it until the end of the break. He'd done break assignments in advance because he'd expected it to be a busy break. All he was going to be doing now, though, was relaxing, cooking, and maybe squeezing some embarrassing kid stories out of Derek's sisters.

 

"Hey!" Stiles exclaimed as something occurred to him. "So, if one of them is sleeping on the couch, and one of them is sleeping in your room with you, is Miguel going to sleep in my room?" Derek's eyes widened, while his two sisters just looked confused, and Stiles wondered if he had said the wrong thing. He continued, feeling self conscious. "I mean, it's fine if you don't want him to. It's just, he does it sometimes when you're not around, out canoodling with your lady friend or whatever, and one of you is sleeping on the floor, so I just figured there'd be more room, but..." Stiles waved his hand. "Nah, never mind. Forget it."

 

Stiles finished and gave Derek a spectacular smile, trying not to show his embarrassed blush, before pivoting on his heel and again walking towards his room. He dumped his bag on the floor and stripped off his coat, but didn't bother to take off his sweatshirt, because it was pretty chilly outside and despite the great invention of indoor heating, it was still kind of cold in the dorm.

 

Without meaning to, Stiles felt himself drifting off. He didn't fight it, because one, it was break, so he deserved to have at least a little bit of a wonky sleep pattern, and two, he was already fast asleep, so why bother?

 

***

 

Stiles woke up at four, three hours after he had fallen asleep. He stretched contentedly, feeling awesome, and checked his phone. Three texts, and one audio recording from his Dad, who must have called when he was asleep. Stiles started with the text from Scott.

 

**hey im sorry u cant get home but i hope u can have sum fun anyway**

Stiles felt himself smiling a little, and just because he was in that kind of mood, he scrolled through his saved pictures until he found one of a wolf curled up int eh snow and sent it off to Scott. A moment later he got a reply of a picture of a hand flipping him the bird. He laughed audibly and looked at the one from Allison.

 

**Gonna miss u this 25th but i hope u have a gr8 christmas**

Stiles smiled softly at this one as well, and then wordlessly flipped to the last text, the one from Lydia.

 

**There is such a thing as telecommunication this day and age, Stilinski, and I expect you to use it.**

Stiles' face burst into a grin, because it was Lydia, and replied with a quick:

 

**Yes, Ma'am!**

before exiting his texts and going on to his phone messages. He felt himself buzz with anticipation, because it may have been only a month ago Stiles last saw him, but it felt like he hadn't heard his Dad's voice in ages. His thumb lightly pressed on the  touchscreen above the play button.

 

_"Hey kiddo," his Dad's voice greeted him, and Stiles fell back onto the mattress, his feelings swirling around and through him in equal parts of sadness and joy. "So, I know you can't pick up the phone right now, but I have and extended shift tonight and I won't be able to call you later, so I figured I'd leave a message for you to come back to when you have time to listen. I'm sorry you can't make it home for Christmas, but I wanted to assure you in advance that there haven't been any unusual deaths in the area. It looks like it's going to be a normal December, so it's even worse that you can't get here. Still, we can all send our Christmas gifts through that mail system, and we all want you to try and have a nice Chistmas. Maybe with that roommate of yours, Darrell, no, Derek. Okay, gotta go. I love ya, kid."_

 

Stiles stared at his phone screen for a little while in silence before sighing and dragging himself up out of bed. He wasn't sad, exactly, or mad, or depressed, or even happy. He was neutrally discontented, maybe, but at the same time, neutrally contented. There were upsides and downsides to this situation, but since Stiles didn't have to fix it, he would let it play out. Which meant getting to know Derek and Derek's sisters, letting Miguel sleep next to him on the bed sometimes because he was a sucker for puppy dog eyes, and sending all his friends their Christmas gifts through the post office.

 

Stiles emerged from his room and nearly tripped almost immediately. An arm, Derek's arm, reached out and pushed him roughly back on his feet. Stiles' roommate was used to Stiles' clumsiness by now, and was nice enough to wordlessly save himself from his own traitorous feet sometimes.

 

Laura giggled from where she sat at the counter for the kitchenette. Stiles didn't get the joke, but he didn't seem to nee to, because Derek growled and stomped away. Laura immediately tried to stop giggling, failing miserably, and whined. "Noooo, Derekkk~ I didn't mean it! Come back!"

 

"Don't be so sensitive," Cora said, and Derek rounded on her and glared a truly glowering glare. She begrudgingly backed off, not even bothering to hide her smirk as she slinked across the dorm to slip into the stool next to Laura's.

 

"So I see the sibling rivalry has already began appearing," Stiles noted light-heartedly, grabbing a cup from he sink and rising it out before filling it back up with water. He gave Derek a mock-pitying look. "That's rough, buddy."

 

Laura scoffed, bringing Stiles' attention to her. "He'll survive," he claimed, waving a dismissive hand in her bother's direction, who scowled at the back of her head before storming into his room. Laura leaned forward with her weight on the counter, staring at Stiles with interest.

 

"So," she began, her fingers tapping a rhythmical pattern into the countertop. Stiles spotted a mischievous glimmer in her eye, and Cora grinned like a shark. "Derek brought Miguel with him, eh? How's my giant puppy doing?"

 

Stiles knew Laura had an angle on her brother, and was trying to get the angle a little steeper with this question, but he couldn't quite figure out how. He resolved to play dumb, to get a little more information, and give up a little information, but not a ton.

 

"He's doing great!" Stiles enthused, grinning at Derek's sisters. Something occurred to him, and asking this was way better than playing stupid. "So, does he have dog food at your house, because Derek hasn't bought him any dog food, says he's fine on table scraps, but still...?"

 

Cora and Laura exchanged an evil glance, but after a beat, Laura shook her head. "Table scraps are fine," she said. "Derek probably feeds hime healthy stuff you haven't found yet because he's a HOARDER!"

 

There was an indeterminable grumbling from inside Derek's room, and a moment later a loud, sharp bark. Laura laughed while Cora rolled her eyes. Stiles felt himself beginning to grin.

 

***

 

Out of the two girls, Stiles found himself a little close to Laura, rather than Cora, even though Cora was his own age. Derek's younger sister was scary, gruff, and a little unreachable. Her rough-and-tumble personality conflicted with Stiles' constant talkativeness to the point that Stiles kind of restricted himself to seven syllables each interaction. After Laura's absolute failure at making breakfast but Stiles' brave rescue of the bacon, they became tentative friends, and that friendship soon expanded.

 

Laura didn't "break down" Cora and Derek's walls, though. She walked through them intangibly with her sisterly magic. This meant Stiles couldn't follow her inside, and neither could anybody else. Fortunately, Stiles was a fast learned  not matter who the teacher, and by the end of two weeks he was careful friends with all three of the Hale siblings. He regretted to see the girls go, not only because he was saying goodbye to friends, but also because Miguel had been sleeping in his room every night of the break they had been visiting, and Stiles would be lying if he said the dog hadn't grown on him.

 

He, of course, didn't really mention to Derek that the dog was still sleeping in his room sometimes, when Derek wasn't home. The man didn't complain though, and Stiles figured he had put two and two together, so Stiles went out and bought a bag of dog treats.

 

***

 

Stiles knew the werewolf thing made his friends do weird shit sometimes, but he was very certain this was way past _weird_  and  _not normal,_ on a scale where werewolves classified only a little weirder then Stiles' phone reminding him to study every night because that was how he'd programmed it. Jackson didn't even count as a friend, technically, so this was really, _really_ strange.

 

"Dude,' Stiles complained, splaying a hand across Jackson's face and pushing back and up. "Get off of me!"

 

Jackson growled, eyes glaring ice blue, and grabbed Stiles' wrists. He held Stiles' hand still while he rubbed his bare skin over Stiles'. Stiles knew he wasn't interested in  _that_  way, which was good because Lydia might kill him with arsenic or something, but still, it was really odd.

 

Thank goodness that was Scott's car pulling up, and a carful of werewolves falling over each other to be the first out of the car. They would stop whatever was up with Jackson and probably explain the situation to Stiles along the way, and maybe even snap at Allison and Lydia for just standing there and giggling at Stiles' predicament instead of doing something helpful.

 

"Stiles!" Scott called out, running towards Stiles and his odd, shifting, extremely annoying, Jackson-shaped tumor. "What is Jackson doi..." Scott trailed off, sniffing the air. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were quick to follow after him, but they stopped right behind him and started sniffing the air as well.

 

"That's what I'm trying to find out!" Stiles hissed, trying to squirm out of Jackson's bruising grip on his wrists. "Lydia and Allison are just standin-WHOA!" Stiles called out in surprise as a surge of werewolves surrounded him and Jackson. To his surprise, though he really should have expected it. They all started rubbing against him, just as Jackson had been, and still was, doing. Lydia giggled from the side, along with Allison, though she at least sounded a little guilty. Stiles couldn't glare at them through the mob of werewolves, but he shouted, "It's not funny! with annoyance in his tone. That only made them giggle louder.

 

***

 

Miguel practically pounced on him and soon as he got in the door. The dog sniffed carefully, suspiciously, at Stiles' legs and hands before he immediately started licking Stiles' fingers. Stiles knelt down, slightly worried about the dog's weird behavior, and Miguel immediately pushed forward, licking Stiles' neck and leaving a considerable amount of saliva behind.

 

It only took a few more seconds for Stiles to piece together exactly what the dog was doing, but eh implications startled a surprised laugh out of him. He combed his fingers through Miguel's fur. "Yeah, you and Jackson both." He gave Miguel an appraising look. "I'm guessing I don't smell like pack, right?" Stiles huffed another laugh. "At least I can't blame you for not explaining before you tried to scent mark me."

 

Miguel whined and licked Stiles' cheek. "Yeah, yeah," Stiles muttered, standing up and wiping the drool off with the back of his hand. "Give me a couple minutes to set my stuff away. Then I'll go take a shower and use Derek's body wash or something."

 

Miguel yipped once, yip for yes, and Stiles smirked and winked at the dog. "Don't tell Derek," he mock whispered. Miguel yipped again, dancing around Stiles feet and practically herding him towards the bathroom. God, Stiles  _loved_  this dog.

 

***

 

Stiles and Miguel were watching Batman on Stiles' laptop, curled up in his bed, when it brained Stiles over the head like it should have months ago. He groaned, letting his head fall back as a gravelly, "I'm Batman," filtered through the speakers.

 

"No wonder Scott didn't think I smelled like pack anymore," Stiles rolled out of bed, heading for the kitchen, and therefore, the coffee. "Miguel" whined and hopped off the bed, following after Stiles quietly.

 

"Yeah, Yeah," Stiles grumbled, giving the dog the stink eye. "And I thought you didn't like me." Stiles practically stormed into the kitchen, grumbling under his breath. "Fucking werewolves."

 

"Stiles got three peaceful minutes to make his coffee before Derek came into the kitchen wearing black sweatpants with no shirt. His hair was mussed, and his stubble untrimmed. Messy, but sexy, and that was the exasperating thing.

 

"And here I was thinking Twilight was trash," Stiles mumbled. One of Derek's impressive eyebrows raised a little, and Stiles stuck his tongue out. "You don't get you pull your stupid unimpressed face!" Stiles told him, voice a little on the whiny side, but he didn't care. "You've been giving me wolf cuddles this entire year!"

 

Derek grunted noncommittally, and they stood in awkward silence for a little while. Derek finally broke and asked, "How'd you know about werewolves?"

 

"My friend Scott is one," Stiles replied serenely. "This year, every time I came back on break, they kept telling me I smelled like another werewolf." Stile gave a little laugh. "I was so confused. Especially after your sisters visited and it was so bad they started a scent-marking mob around me. That was really strange."

 

Derek blinked, and his highly expressive eyebrows twitched. "You're a part of the pack, then? Even though you're human?"

 

Stiles smirked, putting on a cocky face. "There wouldn't even be a pack if it wasn't for me."

 

Derek seemed to find a strange fascination in the chipping white paint on their walls. "Oh," he murmured, sent a quick glance back to Stiles, and then fled the kitchen.

 

***

 

"So, my roommate's a werewolf," Stiles said into the receiver as soon as the phone stopped ringing.

 

"What?!" Scott cried, adn there was the sound of something breaking in the background. Stiles knew he was on speakerphone with the rest of the pack, besides Lydia, who was on line two.

 

"Is this the hot roommate?" the redhead inquired curiously.

 

"No," Stiles replied morosely. "Hot roommate was last year, remember? This one's even hotter!"

 

"What's your attraction to him?" Lydia quizzed. "One to ten."

 

"Stiles sighed into the phone. "It had been four," the answered. "But some information came up, I learned some new things about his personality, and now I think it doubled, or more! Like, eight point three."

 

"Oh, Stiles," Lydia sighed. Stiles agreed wholeheartedly.

 

This was around the time the rest of his friend's brains started working again, and there was a sudden burst of clamour and voices from the other end of the line. Stiles sighed and resigned himself to a slow death by humiliation.

 

***

 

Stiles had thought that after the whole reveal, Derek would be even more closed up. Instead, the opposite happened. Derek would make an effort to answer any of Stiles' questions, even if it was more grunt than words sometimes. He ate dinner with Stiles more often than not, and wasn't sky with the bright blue eyes and claws.

 

Stiles, in return, stopped hiding all the lore books under his bed. He video-chatted with Lydia, Scott, and the rest of the pack out of the confines of his room. He didn't whisper solutions to problems, and instead said them with a normal voice, and wasn't afraid to write down his theories and notes and sometimes leave them on the table if he thought they were important for Derek to find. On one awkward occasion, Derek actually came up with the solution.

 

And god, why?! Derek listened, Derek let him talk, Derek helped him with problems he was stuck on...Derek was perfect, and Stiles was probably in love, and everything was messy and difficult but also clear and simple.

 

The simple part was that Stiles liked Derek and wanted to curl up with him on the couch again, but this time while he was in human form. The complicated part was the fact that Stiles actually had to specify "human form".

 

And then Derek in the form Stiles had previously known as Miguel (Stiles should have realized it right then. Come on!) leapt up onto Stiles' bed and snuggled up next to him as Stiles watched Iron Man falling because of the ice build up. Stiles blinked in surprise before running his hand over Derek's soft fur. Well, since Derek had been the one to jump up, Stiles should feel no obligation to push him away. He rested a hand behind Derek's ears, scratching absentmindedly while he went back to watching his movie

 

Derek fell asleep in his wolf form before the movie was even half way over with. Stiles  found it hard to resist the urge to snuggle closer to that warm, fuzzy body and fall asleep as well. In the end, he didn't resist.

 

***

 

Stiles woke up warm and content. It took a moment to realize the warmth surrounding him was from a person, not a blanket. Their arms, Derek's arms, were wrapped around Stiles' torso, their legs entangled. Stiles felt a blush rise to his cheeks when he realized he was pretty stiff down there.

 

Stiles yelped in surprise when he tried to wiggle out of Derek's grip and realized the man behind him was completely naked. The yelp woke Derek, who yawned like a lion before blinking sleepily at Stiles.

 

"Good morning<" Stiles greeted uncomfortably, trying to sound normal despite the circumstances. "So, you fell asleep wolfy last night and I, uhm..." Stiles couldn't keep talking lest he blurt out the entire history of the male circumcision in his nervousness.

 

"Sometimes I change back and forth when I sleep," Derek explained, slowly removing his arms from Stiles' torso. Wherever his skin had been touching Stiles' skin tingled painfully as the lack of contact.

 

"Oh" Stiles said blandly. "Yeah, I kind of guessed that." Stiles wanted to asked exactly why Derek had come into his room last night, but he was afraid he already knew the answer. "Full moon last night...?" He let the unspoken question hang int he air.

 

"Yeah," Derek breathed, and Stiles couldn't help but notice that despite the lack of contact, neither of them had gotten out of the bed. "We're in the middle of a city, so I couldn't exactly go running. Sometimes I mellow out when I shift, so I tried..."

 

"And?" Stiles pushed, maybe a tad too eagerly. 

 

"And my wolf went looking for comfort," Derek muttered, not looking at Stiles.

 

Stiles sometimes had "stupidly brave" moments, like when he charged a snarling were wolf int he middle of the woods, or challenged a witch. This was definitely one of those moments, and without stopping to think about it, Stiles twisted around, leaned forward, and kissed Derek on the cheek.

 

His lips tinged when he pulled away, blushing to the tips of his ears. Maybe he had been wrong. Just because Scott went to Allison when  _he_  was having full moon blues, didn't mean--!

 

Stiles thought ceased abruptly when Derek leaned forward and pressed his lips against Stiles' mouth. The tingling intensified, and Stiles' hand fumbled it's way up to  the back of Derek's neck. The kiss was slow, every move calculated, but enjoyable nonetheless, and Stiles most definitely wasn't complaining.

 

When they finally pulled away, Stiles was breathing hard, but smiling like an idiot.He grinned even more stupidly at Derek. "So, is this like, bestiality?"

 

Derek growled.

 

***

 

_"So, hey Scott, I just wanted to make sure you know that I won't be coming home for Spring Break. My werewolf boyfriend, previously roommate, wanted to introduce me to his pack, and, you know, I wanted to meet them. I know you didn't pick up because you're probably screwing Allison right now, or at least thinking about screwing Allison, so don't you dare even think about judging me! I'll see you May 25th, and maybe during summer break you can have a meeting with Derek's Alpha or something. Okay, that's all, bye!"_


End file.
